Haunted Fields (13 page)

‘And did Harvey Templeton drive you to and from Ridge Farm?'

Gerry hesitated, looking down at the ground.

‘I'll take that as a yes then,' said Freddie, shaking his head. He knew Harvey had had something to do with all this! ‘The swine! Did you see Noel falling? Was he alone up there?'

‘They'd been other kids up there earlier in the day,' he said quickly, as if a pre-programmed response to the question had been triggered. ‘But I'm fairly certain he was alone at the time. I don't think anyone pushed him. It was a confusing few minutes, and trying to save Noel was my only concern. If anyone else was there, no one reported seeing them, and none of the other kids ever came forward.'

‘You need to tell the police about what you've done,' Freddie said, silently ushering Jess away from Gerry's reach. ‘If you tell them what you've just told us, they might be lenient.'

‘Police? Huh! I haven't got time to speak to the police,' Gerry said, cracking his knuckles. ‘I have a ghost to find.'

‘There isn't a ghost!' Freddie said, knowing time was running out. He could see Gerry was beginning to lose patience. He was a man with little to lose, a man with little regard for the wellbeing of those who stood in his way. Bringing Jess here had been a bad move, he saw that now.

‘But I saw–'

‘What you saw wasn't a ghost,' Freddie said, preparing for an assault. ‘I've seen him too – twice! He's not a ghost. Someone who looks incredibly likes Noel has been living around here the past couple of weeks.'

‘Then I'll kill him!'

‘Are you insane?'

‘I'll send him back, I'll do it!'

‘But he isn't Noel! You'll not hurt anyone else!'

‘Get out of my garden! Go on, go!'

‘Freddie, come on, let's get out of here,' Jess said.

‘Yeah, let's go to the police station,' he said, without removing his eyes from Gerry's. ‘Tell them everything we know.'

Gerry swung.

‘Freddie, look out!'

He saw it all right, a fist flying through the air, searching out his face. He ducked, but like a heat seeking missile, it changed direction. He dived, pulling Jess away, rough knuckles grazing his chin as he moved. He kicked out wildly, connecting with Gerry's shin. Gerry howled.

‘We need to get out of here, quickly,' Freddie said.

‘Where are we going?'

‘To find Vincent Burgess before
he
does.'

20

They broke into a run, desperate to put as much distance between themselves and Gerry McGeady as possible.
The bloke's lost it!
thought Freddie. They had to find Noel's lookalike – Vincent, if that's what his name was – before Gerry did.

‘Where do you think he is?' Jess said, slowing on the road beside him, breathing heavily.

‘I've no idea,' he replied, glancing around as they passed the thirty miles-per-hour sign, entering the village.

Freddie slowed up too. They'd been awake all night, and half the previous. He was exhausted. The village was beginning to stir, oblivious to the unfolding events. How nice it would be to be tucked up in bed, carefree, with nothing more than the snooze button to worry about, he thought. His stomach groaned.

He heard tyres rumbling on the road behind them and hopped up onto the pavement. He dipped his head, waiting for the vehicle to pass. As it neared them he heard it slowing. Was it Gerry's truck? It sounded too quiet. It was a car, surely?

The vehicle pulled up beside them, Freddie sneaking a glance.

‘What the–'

No! It can't be! What's Rhona doing here?

The passenger-side window lowered. He bent down, squinting, Rhona staring back at him.

‘Freddie,' she said. ‘What are you doing up and about at this time of day?'

‘Rambling,' he said.

He felt Jess' arm brush his elbow as she crouched to get a better view.

‘You remember me, don't you Jessica?'

‘Vaguely.'

‘Well you
were
only ten the last time I visited. Hop in, both of you.'

Rhona was the last person he'd expected to bump into on the stroll back to the farm. This was getting weirder and weirder.

‘What the hell are you doing here?' asked Freddie, opening the door.

‘It's been too long since my last visit,' she said. ‘I'll explain everything in a few moments.'

Freddie shrugged, climbing inside and buckling up, Jess sliding onto the back seat. He'd detected strain in Rhona's voice. He scrutinised her a little more closely. Her face looked puffy, as if she'd been crying, and there were tissues on the dash. Maybe it was something to do with the pregnancy, he thought, glancing down at her stomach. She didn't seem to be showing yet.

‘Let me guess – partying?'

‘How do you know?'

‘Freddie, mothers
always
know.'

He gulped back a retort. Sometimes her attempts at motherly affection choked him up. Occasionally it felt natural, like she really was his mum. But she wasn't – his mum was gone.

‘Does Elizabeth know you're coming?' Freddie asked, trying to change the subject.

‘No, I thought I'd surprise her,' she said, fidgeting. ‘Only your father knows I'm here.'

He didn't believe a word of it. Had she come all this way just to check up on him?
This isn't a good time! We have stuff to do!

‘What are you
really
doing here?' he asked.

‘Ok, I'll tell you straight,' she said, putting the car into gear. ‘I received a phone call. Quite a distressing phone call, actually. From – from the police.'

‘The police?'

Freddie gulped again.
What did the police want?
he wondered. Was this about the fire? Had Rhona travelled all this way to discipline him for something he hadn't even done? They should've contacted the old bill as soon as they'd discovered Gerry was behind the fire. How could they have been so reckless?

‘I had to come and check something out,' she continued. ‘I'm afraid I haven't been entirely honest with you.'

‘What's going on?' he demanded. ‘Tell me now!'

‘Have you seen or heard of anything suspicious going on since you arrived?' she asked abruptly, ‘Anyone acting a bit odd?'

‘You've just about summed this place up.'

She scowled.

‘This is important.'

‘Everyone keeps seeing the ghost of this lad who died a few years back. You knew him, apparently –
a Noel Davidson
? Well we've figured out who he really is, or at least we think we have.'

Rhona's eyes narrowed to slits, her skin paling, as if his words had had a cooling effect on her.

‘I'm sorry?'

‘A lad has been living rough at an abandoned farmhouse, not far from here. He's the spitting image of Noel. There was a name on his rucksack – a Vincent Burgess.'

Rhona gasped.

‘Oh, and a mad farmer is looking for him,' Freddie added, ‘reckons he's going to kill him when he finds him.'

‘Direct me to this farmhouse, now!'

‘You need to go back the way you came.'

Rhona slammed the car into reverse, putting her foot down, swinging the wheel to the left. Suddenly the car jumped forwards, wheels spinning, Freddie's head pinned to the headrest.

What on earth is up with Rhona?

They rumbled along the track without speaking, Rhona's hands gripping the wheel so tightly that her knuckles had turned white. He'd never seen her, even in one of her fits of rage, so determined, and so focused. She pulled up in front of the abandoned farmhouse. The others seemed to have deserted the place – it looked cold and empty. He'd neither expected nor wanted to return here so quickly.

‘
This
is it?'

‘Yep,' Freddie said, glancing up at the first floor windows. ‘He's been camping out in a bedroom, in front of an old fireplace.'

Rhona unbuckled herself and climbed out of the car. Freddie turned to Jess and shrugged.

‘What shall we do?' she asked. ‘If Gerry finds him before we do…'

‘I know.'

Then, without warning, the morning was pierced by the most terrifying scream Freddie had heard in his life. He unbuckled himself, his hands sticky, sliding over the belt.

‘What was that?' Jess said.

They climbed out of the car, Rhona already marching off towards the woods.

‘Where are you going?' asked Freddie. ‘He's been living in the house, not the trees.'

Freddie eyed the dark mass of timber which enveloped the far side of the disused farmyard. He did not want to go in there! Something very bad had just occurred within those trees.

A second scream. A third. Birds took to the air, vacating the trees. Birds are smart, thought Freddie, they know when to flee. So why the hell were the three of them heading towards the danger!? It didn't feel right. Had Gerry finally caught up with Vincent?

‘Sounds like someone's in trouble,' said Jess, jogging to catch up with him. ‘Where are we going?'

Rhona stopped, turning to face them.

‘We're visiting Noel's grave,' she said.

The woods were quiet, too quiet. They heard no more screams. Rhona claimed to know where was she was going, even if this wasn't the official entrance to the clearing where Noel was buried, and so they followed her. Branches raked Freddie's face, his limbs. His feet snagged on wild plants.

Eventually they made it to a stony path, weaving its way through the trees. The path would've felt a little more reassuring had it been leading them to safety, rather than
towards
the danger. Freddie half expected something to jump out at them from behind a tree, another of Ravenby's monsters, perhaps.

There came a loud thud nearby, making them all jump. ‘What was that?' Jess said.

Rhona spun round, a finger to her lips.

‘Ssshh! Get down, quickly!'

They did as instructed, cowering behind the trunk of a fallen tree.

‘You'd best be in here!' wailed Ursula.

Where had that come from? Freddie scanned the horizon, confused as to their position, as to what he was looking for. And then he saw it. A clearing, a good ten metres away, smaller than he'd expected, a tombstone sitting in its centre.

There came three more thuds, and then the head and shaft of a spade rose high into the air, a pile of earth growing beside the grave.

‘No!' said Rhona. ‘No! She can't! No!'

Freddie wondered if he was really seeing what he appeared to be.
This isn't right! This can't be right!
He shook his head. Surely this was just tiredness playing tricks on his mind. He must be hallucinating. He glanced from Rhona to Jess, but they'd experienced similar reactions to his own. He wasn't hallucinating. Ursula Hawkins was digging up her step-brother's remains.

It sounded as if she'd reached her target, the spade smashing through the lid of the coffin.

‘You'd best be in here!' he heard Ursula wail. ‘I watched them lower you into this hole! You're dead! Dead!'

‘This is sick,' Jess whispered. ‘We have to do something.'

Suddenly Ursula cried out, hysterical, deranged. Freddie strained to see in the half-light as she emerged from the hole in the ground, fingers bleeding, as if she'd been digging like a dog searching for a bone. Her clothes were muddy and torn, her hair wild. She collapsed against the tombstone, clutching something in her hands, something round, something white.

‘No!' Freddie said.

It was a human skull.

‘But you're dead!' Ursula wailed. ‘How could I have seen you? You're dead!'

Freddie turned to Jess. She was covering her mouth, holding the scream in. But the sight seemed to be too much for Rhona, who burst from their hiding place.

‘Put that back!' she shouted.

Ursula looked up, dazed, as if waking from a trance, ‘Rhona?'

Freddie didn't want to look anymore.
This is too much!
he thought. But they couldn't let Rhona confront Ursula alone – anything could happen. He helped Jess to her feet and they followed Rhona through the trees, towards the clearing, Freddie making sure he kept his gaze well away from the open scar in the earth.

‘He died, Ursula,' Rhona said. ‘Put him back, leave him be.'

‘I saw him, yesterday,' she said, glancing around at the three of them. ‘He spoke to me. I never believed any of the silly stories – never! But I saw him!'

Freddie heard a twig snap.
Crap!
he thought. Had Gerry heard the wails, the thuds, and come to investigate? He turned, his mouth falling open.

Noel Davidson stood at the edge of the clearing.

‘It's not Noel,' Freddie told himself, panicking. ‘It's not Noel, it's not Noel!'

Everyone seemed to have noticed, silence falling over the small group. Suddenly the figure charged, heading straight for them, his eyes fixed on Rhona.

‘Go away!' Ursula screamed. ‘Leave us.'

‘Aarrghh!' Jess shouted.

Freddie moved to block Jess from danger.

Noel, Vincent, or whoever he was skidded, stopping just short of Rhona, who hadn't moved, hadn't even blinked. He looked straight at her, his eyes filling with tears.

‘Mum?' he said.

21

‘Vincent?' Rhona replied.

They were smiling, embracing, tears streaming down their cheeks.

‘You!' Ursula spat accusingly. ‘You and Noel? He got you p-pregnant? No wonder dizzy Lizzie lost it.'

But this was a moment too important, too overwhelming for Ursula's words to have any impact on. She just sat there, her back to the tombstone, clutching her dead step-brother's skull.

And then it all clicked into place for Freddie.
Rhona isn't pregnant!
The baby grow was a relic, a reminder of something lost, lost but never forgotten. And here, in this clearing, the past had finally caught up with Rhona.

I have a brother! A step-brother of my own!
He felt faint. Jess wrapped her arms around him, nuzzling his neck. She'd worked it out too.

‘I have a nephew?' Ursula said, glancing down at the skull. ‘My father has a grandson? My father has an heir?'

She seemed to collapse in on herself, finally caving in. She slumped further down the tombstone, releasing the skull. It rolled away from her, coming to rest at the edge of the open grave.

‘I'm so sorry,' Rhona said, stepping back, taking Vincent's hands in hers. ‘I didn't want us to meet like this.'

‘I've dreamt of this day for so long,' Vincent cried. ‘I always thought that if you met me, just once, you wouldn't want to give up on me a second time. Whenever I saw photos of you I'd think,
but she doesn't look like a bad person!
'

‘It wasn't like that,' Rhona said. ‘You have to understand, I was so young. Your father died, not knowing I'd fallen pregnant, and my parents took me away. It was with a heavy heart, that I gave you up for adoption. It was the best start in life I could've given you, at the time. I've regretted the decision ever since. I love you, Vincent.'

They hugged again.

‘Is it true, what people say, that my dad was murdered?'

‘No,' Rhona said. ‘It was just a terrible accident. He slipped and fell.'

‘There you are!' growled Gerry.

Freddie came to. He'd been so caught up in the reunion, so gripped by tiredness, it'd felt as if he'd been viewing everything from someone else's body. But that voice, and the hatred wielded in it, awoke something within him. He couldn't let that man harm his step-brother, his family.

He looked up, beyond Rhona and Vincent, to where Gerry stood, assessing the situation.

‘I knew I'd heard voices,' he muttered.

‘Just calm down,' said Freddie, pulling Jess' hands apart, releasing himself, ‘you've done enough damage already.'

‘I'm only just getting started,' Gerry said, limping into the clearing. ‘I'll kill him.'

The bruise on the side of Gerry's face seemed to have darkened in the hour or so since Freddie had last seen him, as if discoloured by rage, by madness.

‘You won't hurt anyone else,' Freddie said, moving to block his approach.

Gerry saw him coming, skirting the grave so that they opposed each other, either side of the hole. Freddie did not dare to look down.

‘I'll send him back!'

‘Noel's dead, you moron,' shouted Freddie. This is Vincent, his son.'

But Freddie knew he'd made a big mistake. Gerry had spied an object lying at the edge of the hole.

The spade.

He crouched, moaning as he did so, clearly still in pain from the tumble he'd taken the other night. He took the spade in both hands, holding it up like a kendo stick.

‘Try and stop me.'

Freddie knew that if he was going to act, he had to do it now. He couldn't reason with this man.

He vaulted the grave but Gerry saw him coming, swinging the spade. Freddie ducked, the head whooshing past his vision, large and metallic, the shaft grazing his shoulder. His left foot landed in the mud, his ankle twisting. He cried out in pain, collapsing onto the mound of displaced earth just inches from the madman's boots.

Gerry pulled the spade back, lining up for a real big shot. Freddie could see that it was his intention to end it, with one swing. He wanted to close his eyes, to fall asleep. But couldn't bring himself to do it. He'd face death, face his aggressor. Gerry grinned. Freddie lifted his hands, shielding his face.

‘Please,' he said, though knowing it would do no good. ‘Think about what you're doing, what you've done already.'

Gerry brought the spade forward a little, lining up his swing, like a golfer at the first tee. Freddie dived.

He heard movement and braced himself for impact. Then he heard a cry, what sounded like something moving through the air very quickly, and a crack. He'd felt an object, or something, move past him. Yet he was still intact. His head hadn't shattered into a million pieces. He landed on the soft earth, still alive.

He opened one eye. Vincent stood over him, a look of utter disgust passing across his face. Vincent wasn't looking down at him but past him towards where Ursula still sat, sobbing. Freddie turned, gasping.

Gerry McGeady lay crumpled against Noel's tombstone, blood gushing from a wound near his right temple.

He woke to the sound of birdsong. He wasn't sure how long he'd been asleep for, but he knew that it must've been a while. It was morning, he could tell, and he felt rested but sore, his ankle still throbbing. There was a knock at his door. Surely Greg wasn't knocking him up for work?

‘Come in,' he said.

The door opened and Jess walked in, smiling.

‘Do you mind?'

‘Of course not,' he said, sitting up. ‘I've just woken up.'

She closed the door behind her and tiptoed over to the bed. She pulled the duvet back and climbed in beside him, crawling across the mattress, resting her head on his chest.

‘I couldn't sleep,' she said. ‘I can't get that skull, and that grave, out of my head. How could Ursula do that?'

‘I know,' he said, running his fingers through her hair, stroking the back of her head. ‘She needs help.'

He could feel her shaking.

‘At least the police believed you, about Gerry,' she said. ‘I hope they lock him up for a long time.'

‘He's another one who needs help,' Freddie said.

‘I wonder why Rhona suggested you come here.'

‘I think she genuinely thought the country would do me some good. We've argued a lot over the years. She does try, and I can see that I've been fighting against it, determined not to accept her as a mother figure.'

But something was playing on Freddie's mind, something he'd heard Ursula mutter beside the grave:

No wonder dizzy Lizzie lost it
!

Dizzy Lizzie?

Dizzy – the Dizzy from the letters he'd found in Noel's possessions back at the abandoned house – was Elizabeth?
Elizabeth had been seeing Noel,
thought Freddie,
behind Rhona's back?
He'd keep quiet. He had to. Some secrets were better off remaining secret.

But what if it'd been Elizabeth who'd pushed Noel?

Stop it!
he told himself,
just stop it!

‘What happened to your real mum?' Jess asked. ‘You don't mention her.'

‘She died, in childbirth,' he said. ‘She died so I could live.'

He sighed. Opening up to others had always proved difficult for Freddie. He wondered why he'd opened up to Jess, of all people, when he'd often struggled to express himself when she was around.

‘I'm sorry, I didn't know.'

‘I put so much pressure on myself sometimes. It's as if I'm living for both of us.'

‘I understand.'

‘They say we show our true character, when we're drunk,' said Freddie. ‘Why did you go back to Lucas?'

‘I don't know,' Jess replied. ‘We've only just broken up and, I'm not going to lie, I did really like him. Last night I was confused, and very drunk. But it would be nice if we could forget out about it all, and start over. How do you fancy taking me out at the weekend?'

‘Sounds good to me,' said Freddie. ‘Ursula's open day?'

‘I was thinking more along the lines of a picnic, or a walk on the beach. But if we must…'

‘I'll think of something.'

His mobile started vibrating on the bedside table.
Does the bloody thing ever stop going off?
He was too relaxed to care about who'd texted him. He felt so warm, so content.

‘You'd better see who that is,' Jess whispered, patting his arm.

He sighed, reaching across for the mobile.

‘Surprise, surprise,' he said, glancing at the sender. He opened the message. It was from Tiffany. It read:

Freddie. I didn't want to tell you like this, but seeing as though you won't answer my calls… I think I'm pregnant.